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Todoroki Shoto has been dead for three years now. Everyone knows that, Class A definitely knows that. They’d mostly been together when the news was announced.
When the headline, number two hero found dead, appeared on just about every news website. The class had shattered, Shoto was dead, he’d made number two a little over a week ago, the get together was to celebrate, well, for most people.
Not for Bakugo Katsuki, for him it was when he would ask the question, the one he thought about after there first kiss, after the first time Shoto held him together, after the first time he held Shoto.
Now, that chance was gone.
He doesn’t know that, though. It’s odd, how a quirk like Eri’s works, she can rewind a person to any point in time. So, every day, at eight pm, she sends him back. Katsuki doesn’t age; he fights. No one tells him the love of his life won’t be there when he gets home, they tell him that Shoto is busy, that he’s spending the night at his hero agency, that he’ll see him tomorrow. But tomorrow never comes, it’s just the same day, over and over and over again.
Midoriya Izuku hates it, he hates that he can’t see his friend turned bully turned rival turned best friend grow old beside him. And he hates the world for taking Shoto so soon, he was the link that helped patch their friendship by simply being a calm point in a storm of pent-up emotion.
Izuku hates that every day he must lie, must look two never ageing crimson eyes that he can see heterochronic ones later. That he must lie to a man so in love, that they’d found him bleeding out on his boyfriend’s grave.
Because they had, Iida had been on patrol, he found Katsuki slumped over Shoto’s tombstone, knife buried to the hilt in his chest.
They’d called Aizawa. When in doubt, call your high school home room teacher. He’d brought Eri, sent him back before he did that, before he knew. When he found out again, he did it again, and then again, and then again. Same outcome no matter what. If they let him down gently, if they just let him go home with no word, if they just showed him the grave, by eleven pm he’d be nearly dead.
So at eight every single night, Eri sent him back, he’d wake up in the morning with the impression Shoto was already at work and go to bed with the impression he’d be back soon. Shoto was always home before eleven, always back in his boyfriend arms. Because if Katsuki wake’s up at ten thirty without the rewind, he’ll check the time, check his messages, check… the news… find out… Thirty minuets later he'd be near death.
Class A couldn’t handle that. The death of one had shook them, the utter collapse of another had dragged them all down further. Call them selfish, call them mean for denying Katsuki his greatest wish. If you called them cowards, they would of laughed with no humor and agree.
They were scared when Shoto died.
They were scared when they nearly lost Katsuki only a few hours later.
So, they kept him safe, wrapped in a bubble built out of lies, out of wishes prayed to come true.
“Deku?” Katsuki asks, popping his head into Izuku’s office, he looks like he does when he wants something. “Can I just pop over to Sho and grab lunch with him?” Oh god, how Izuku would love to say yes. The first time it happened, on the actual day of his death, Izuku had said no, he’d needed help with some reports. What if he had said yes? Maybe Shoto wouldn’t have run into that villain when he had no hero gear, had no back-up. Oh god, if he’d have only said yes.
“Deku?” Katsuki prompts, still needing a reply.
“Umm, could you please help me with these reports?” No, no, just no.
“Oh, yeah, sure.” Katsuki deflates slightly. Izuku remembers that the first time he’d called Katsuki a hopeless romantic. God, he wants to slap his younger self.
The number two hero spot stayed empty, it stayed empty so number three would keep functioning.
When Izuku wakes up in a cold sweat at three am, he decides it’s been to long, Kachan needs to know.
He’s at his friends home, the one with dying Rindou flowers in the front. He rings the doorbell, it’s six in the morning, so to Katsuki, Shoto’s already left for work.
“Deku? What’re you doin’ here?” Katsuki ask’s gruffly, sleep still heavy on his voice.
“I, I, um…” Izuku stammers, oh god, how does he say this. “Can we talk? Please?”
Katsuki studies him with intelligent eyes, eyes that are sill twenty, eyes that stare into Izuku’s with trust, God, he doesn’t deserve that trust.
“It’s about Shoto.” Izuku says softly once they’re both in their lounge.
Katsuki brightens instantly at the mention of his lover. Izuku stares at his face, the one with the scar that cover the right side. He remembers how he’d joked about matching Shoto. Izuku hugs him, and it’s now that he realizes… he’s taller than the blond now.
“Kachan… Shoto, h-he… he’s dead…”
Katsuki freezes in his arms, he can’t see his face, it’s selfish, but Izuku’s glad for that.
“n-no, y-your lying…” Katsuki whispers. “N-no Sho… h-he’s gon’na walk through that door, a-and say i-it’s a joke, t-this is a p-prank o-or…” Katsuki pulls back, letting crimson orbs meet emerald green. His facial expression must say it all, because Katsuki breaks.
The blond drops to his knees, sobbing. Tears stream and stream and stream.
“Kachan, I’m sorry, I’m so, so, so sorry.” Izuku’s on the floor with him, holding his arms out. Katsuki doesn’t take it. Izuku makes him, pulls him into his lap so a blond head is buried into his neck and legs are wrapped tight around his waist.
“I-I I was going t-to ask h-him to m-marry me.” He chokes, the words catching in his throat, “T-this evening, a-at dunce f-face’s-”
Izuku’s crying now, silent tears, he knows this, of course he does. He had been the one to go ring shopping with him, helped him pick out a beautiful silver ring with one big white diamond, that seemed to explode, with the way smaller clear diamonds surrounded it.
‘A mixture of the best of us.’ Katsuki had laughed, when Izuku pointed out it looked like an exploding snowball.
“I-I know…” He whispers, rocking his best friend side to side as hand tighten, fisting in his shirt.
“-at the p-party for h-him, because h-he’s number t-two now.” Katsuki sobs.
They stay like that for who knows how long.
“Can I be alone for a bit?” Katsuki asked, voice devoid of emotion.
Izuku knows what will happen if he leaves, he can’t.
“Kachan… there’s… something I have to tell you.” Izuku squeezes his eyes shut. God, this’ll hurt. “He died three years ago…”
…
“What the fuck…” Katsuki curses, looking at Izuku like he just told him the world was ending, and, well, maybe it was.
“I-I’m so, so, sorry.” Izuku whimpered “Every time we told you… y-you killed yourself…A-and I, A-and we c-couldn’t… we couldn’t handle that!”
“So what? Let me guess, it’s Aizawa’s brats’ fault?” Katsuki screams, he’s on his feet, shoving and punching Izuku towards the door.
“Kachan! Stop!” Izuku yelps, planting his feet firm and catching Katsuki’s hands when he tries to punch him again.
“No! Deku! Get out of our- get out of my house!” The blond’s face is covered in snot, and tears, and his eyes are red from crying. “Go away!”
“NO!” Izuku screams back, engulfing the should-be-older-boy in a tight hug. The action makes the explosion user freeze. “No, Kachan, I won’t leave, because I know that right now, I’m the only thing stopping you from joining him!” Katsuki loses all the fight he thought he had. “And, and if you think that that is what he would have wanted, then you never knew him!”
They both stop yelling, they both try to catch they’re breath, Katsuki get’s his first.
“He would’ve if it was me.” He heaves.
“Don’t you think I know that?” Izuku huffs, “Don’t you think, that if it was Ochako I’d be dead? Or Kirishima and Ashido, what if they lost each other, or Shinso and Kaminari, Hagakure and Ojiro? What about Yaoyorozu and Jiro? Tsuyu and Tokoyami?” He lists. “We all understand, but it wasn’t us, it was you. And that sucks, I know it hurts, and it’s going to keep hurting, it’s going to feel like every step is on glass and every breath is you just breathing in water.” He’s crying again. “But, one day, on day it’ll feel a little bit better, and I know, I know no one will replace him, and you’ll probably never feel the same-”
“So why bother?” Katsuki mumbles.
“Why bother? Bother because, if you go to him right now, what will you say? He wouldn’t want you to give your life for him, he’d want you to live it for him.” Izuku answers easily, “Because one day, when you’re older, you’ll meet him again and be able to tell him everything you’ve accomplished.” Katsuki is glaring at the floor like he could set it on fire with sheer will, “And then you can be re-born together, and live your life in love, and peace, and happiness.” He says while wiping the blonds tears.
“Tch, always have to be the hero, don’t ya, Deku?”
Thee greenet doesn’t respond, he doesn’t have too.
The first months are hard, Katsuki show’s up to the agency with an empty stomach every day to the point that he’s losing weight, his hair is always greasy, even falling out in places. Sometimes he can’t get out of bed, sometimes he needs to hide from everyone when something reminds him of his lost love.
But he’s still here, he’s still fighting, he still calls him Deku, he calls Uraraka pink cheeks, just, quieter, it’s almost as if he’s taken on Shoto’s personality. But it’s fine. They’re moving forward, one foot in front of the other
.oO Time skip, sixty years Oo.
Izuku is now eighty-two, he’s a retired pro, he has a kid, who has twins, they’re both eight. Not many of class a are alive anymore, there teachers aren’t. But that’s life, it moves forward, you roll with the punches, or you get out the line of fire.
He's at the park, his grand kids are playing in the sand box, one has Izuku’s son’s brown hair, with his mothers red eyes, the other has Izuku’s son’s big green eyes, and her mothers pink hair.
His son’s wife is Ashido and Kirishimas daughter.
Katsuki had died nine year’s ago, he had died peacefully, in his sleep, after becoming and being on of the greatest hero’s Japan has ever seen
Izuku see’s something in the corner of his eye. It’s a blond kid, his hair is all spiked up, he looks about seven, maybe eight. When he turns around, Izuku sees his face, and his breath stills. Crimson red eyes, cheeks slightly round with baby fat, he’s clutching a pack of Hero cards tight in his hand and grinning wildly. Izuku’s eyes water slightly.
But then he sees the other boy, split red and white hair, one blue eye one gray. His cheeks are thinner, as is the rest of him, and he’s slightly taller, he’s not being loud like his friend, and his smile is more reserved. He also has a pack of hero cards.
Izuku stares at the two children in wonder, they’re the spitting images of his best friend.
The blond boy rips open his pack, oh, what’d you know, it’s Shoto, from when he was still alive. The red eyed boy seems very happy with this, as is seen in the way he’s jumping up and down in circles.
The other kid opens his pack, it’s, it’s Katsuki, from his prime, decked out in his Dynamight suit. The boy with mismatched eyes also lights up rocking up and down on his feet in obvious delight.
The blond grabs the two-toned boys arm and dragged him into the park, they’re both in the sandbox now, chatting with his grandkids.
Izuku smiles, Japan is in good hands